Endless Wonder
by Skillzys
Summary: Santana Lopez didn't mind her job at The Rhodes Show antiques shop. It was… peaceful. That changes the day Agent Pierce walks into the shop and asks her a question she isn't prepared for. Things only get weirder when her roommate Sam starts acting strange. Warehouse 13/Glee crossover. A series of episodic one-shots.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: I know this isn't exactly what people wanted to see from me, but I guess this is an easy way to show I'm still alive and well. I've got other stuff to update, I know, but this was fun to write and I hope you all have just as much fun reading it. If you've never seen Warehouse 13, there will be a link on my profile that will take you to a quick reference page that has a list of people and tools that will show up in the series. On with the story!

* * *

**Episode One: The Strongest Man in Greece**

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

Santana glared at the tall man-child standing next to her, but he was too preoccupied smacking the pen against the counter to notice her narrowed eyes. The pen tapped against the wood once more and her eyebrow twitched as she resisted the urge to slap it away. Her patience could only last so long, however, so when the end of the pen clacked against the countertop again, she snatched it out of her coworker's hand and tossed it over her shoulder. He started to protest, but she raised a well-manicured hand and he wisely bit back the stream of idiocy he was about to spew forth. He sighed and propped his head up on his hands, using the counter for support, and Santana returned her attention to her nails as she waited for the bell on the front door to ring.

Working at an antiques shop wasn't exactly glamorous, but it was something to pay the bills while she waited for her big break. That's what she told herself when she took the job anyway. Three years later and she was still there, stuck in Lima with Finnept Hudson for a coworker and a woman who always seemed to be three sheets to the wind for a boss. Three years and she still couldn't remember which month her boss was named after. She was leaning towards May, but she couldn't be positive. Still, the job wasn't awful. It was actually pretty peaceful.

Bells jingled throughout the store and Santana cringed before she looked at Finn, whose hands were too far from the service bell to have made the sound.

She shifted her gaze to the front where a woman stood, her blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail. The door was still open and she was leaning her slim body against the frame as she talked to a woman standing outside. Santana couldn't make out what was being said. The potential customer was either too far away or Santana was too busy admiring the way the dark dress pants and jacket looked on the leggy blonde.

When the customer fully entered the store and started walking through the aisles of antiques towards the counter, Santana straightened her posture and nudged Finn in the ribs with her elbow. He stumbled away from the cash register and Santana quickly took his spot, plastering a smile on her face as the woman approached. The smile faltered when the customer stopped in her tracks and turned on her heel. Santana wasn't sure, but she thought she could hear her having a conversation with someone.

While the cute customer was distracted, Santana shooed Finn away. He silently mouthed an argument at her, but she mouthed back that she was his superior in both employment and intellect so he had to do whatever she told him. He stared at her for a moment, most likely trying to figure out what she had just said, before shaking his head and reluctantly walking to the back room. Soon after he left, there was an exasperated groan before something snapped shut and her mysterious customer turned back around. When she approached the counter, her fingers fidgeted with several pamphlets on display and Santana's smile slowly diminished until, finally, it turned into a frown.

"Look, if you aren't here to buy, sell, or steal, maybe you should go back outside with your friend," Santana said. The woman jumped slightly and her hand knocked the stand of pamphlets on the ground. After a quiet apology, she picked up the scattered papers and neatly placed them back on the counter before she gave Santana a nervous smile, who, despite her irritation, couldn't stop herself from responding with a half-smile of her own.

"Sorry. You're just really cute and I'm about to ask a really dumb question."

Santana chuckled and leaned against the counter. "Trust me. There's no such thing as a dumb question."

"Do you ever smell fudge when there isn't any fudge nearby?" she asked. Santana blinked. The woman had just made a liar out of her, and in record time. Dumb questions definitely existed. "Sorry, sorry. I don't think that's how I was supposed to ask that. Let me start over."

The customer reached her hand into the pocket on the inside of her jacket. The movement pushed the fabric of the jacket back, revealing a holstered handgun at her hip. For a moment, Santana wondered if she was about to be part of one of America's worst robberies, but then the woman pulled a leather wallet out of her inner pocket and flipped it open, revealing a badge and a government official ID. It looked official to Santana anyway.

"My name is Agent Brittany S. Pierce and I was wondering if you happened to smell any fudge lately. Possibly when none was around?"

Santana stared at the badge for several seconds before shifting her gaze back to the face of the expectant woman on the other side of the counter. Contrary to what the woman seemed to believe, introducing herself as an agent did not make the question any less ridiculous. Santana crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head.

"I don't really smell much besides dust after being stuck in here all day."

"Oh." The other woman glanced down at her free hand and Santana could make out some smudged words written on her pale palm. "Does it ever feel like you're re-eating—repeating!—the same day over and over again?"

"I work in an antiques shop in Ohio. What do you think?"

The strange woman laughed. "I guess the better question to ask would be if anything out of the ordinary has happened recently."

"Aside from my boss making it to work on time this morning?" Santana asked, and Brittany nodded as she returned the badge to her pocket. "Just you coming in to ask about fudge," she said with a shrug and glanced at the weapon on the blonde's hip.

The so-called agent noticed the shift of her gaze and cleared her throat as she quickly pulled her jacket closed. Her fingers played with the hem for a moment before she apologized for wasting Santana's time and hurried towards the front of the shop. She stopped when she placed her hand on the push handle, muttered something to herself, and came back to the counter. She pulled a small card out of her pocket and pushed it across the wooden countertop towards Santana.

"If something weird happens, will you let me know?"

"Weirder than you?" Santana asked with a raised eyebrow.

The woman nodded. "Or if I come in here again and start asking you the same questions I just did."

Santana sighed, but she took the card and slipped it into her back pocket. The other woman smiled at her. The two stood in silence for several seconds, observing one another, until a strange clanging ring echoed through the shop. The blonde muttered a curse under her breath and said a hurried goodbye before turning away and leaving the shop, shoulders hunched. She met up with the woman waiting outside and the two of them walked out of sight together.

Finn returned from the back room several minutes later. When he asked how it went with the cute blonde, Santana glared at him. She grabbed a rag from under the counter so she could wipe down the antique furniture and figurines scattered throughout the store while she tried to forget the strange woman. Why were the weird ones always so damn hot?

Three hours later, Santana was still at the antiques shop. Her shift had officially ended an hour ago, but she had decided to stick around and help Finn catalogue their inventory. She was supposed to be having a Marvel movie marathon with her roommate, but she needed the money and Sam would understand. When she had texted him to let him know she would be late, he told her he would just log in another hour at the gym while he waited. She frowned at the message and warned him if he kept it up, he might sweat off his guppy lips. He never responded so she figured he had already begun his workout.

While they worked, Finn kept asking about the woman who had come in earlier—there was no need to clarify which woman as she had been their only customer all day—but Santana ignored him. She had hoped he would get the hint, but he didn't stop asking until she smacked him in the arm with her clipboard and reminded him his job was inventory, not her personal life. Once they had finished taking stock of the shop, she handed him the inventory list and reminded him to lock up before he left.

"See you tomorrow, Finnocence," she called over her shoulder as she left the building and stepped into the humid outdoors.

Bugs, damp heat, and gross couples walking down the street hand in hand: The wonders of summer nights in Lima Ohio. Santana grimaced as she stepped around one couple trying to suffocate one another with their mouths in the middle of the sidewalk. When she reached the end of the street, she called Sam to let him know she would be home soon but there was no answer. If he was still working out, she was going to kill him before he could overwork himself.

Instead of walking to their apartment, Santana headed for Sam's gym to see if he was still there. It was out of her way, but if he was there she would just make him give her a ride home. If he wasn't, she would call him and tell him to pick her up. She hoped it would be the latter, but those hopes were dashed when she reached the gym and saw his car in the parking lot.

The attendee at the front desk tried to stop her when she walked in, but Santana ignored him and made a beeline for the sweaty blond man doing bicep curls in the corner. She shoved against his arm to get his attention but he continued to curl the seventy-five pound weights in his hands as if he hadn't felt the touch at all.

"Damn it, Sam," she muttered before she grabbed hold of the dumbbell in his left hand and tugged it out of his sweaty grasp. She stumbled backwards with the weight and struggled to put it back on the rack. Sam's other arm was still pumping the other dumbbell. When she got closer, she noticed the far-off look in his eyes as he watched himself in the mirror. He had definitely been at the gym way too long.

Santana grabbed the second dumbbell with both hands and tugged, but it was harder to yank this one out of Sam's grip. She grunted and tugged and pulled until it finally came loose, sending her stumbling backwards until her back hit one of the weight racks. She hissed in pain and dropped the dumbbell, the weight barely missing her foot.

"Santana?" Sam finally spoke and his sweaty brow furrowed in confusion. "I thought you were going to be working late?"

"Nice of you to finally acknowledge my existence, Trouty Mouth," Santana said with a roll of her eyes as she used both hands to lift the dumbbell off the floor and put it back where it belonged. "And I texted you that an hour ago. I'm done for the night."

"An hour ago?" The crease in Sam's brow deepened and he rubbed the back of his head. "Are you sure? I swear I just put my phone away."

"Come on," she said as she took his hand. "I think the endorphins are starting to screw with your memory. If you keep it up, you're going to start forgetting your name," she teased, but Sam tugged his hand out of hers and stepped back. "What are you doing?"

"I think I'm going to stay here a little longer. Get a couple more reps in and tackle some cardio," he said with a shrug before he grabbed another pair of dumbbells off the rack, heavier than the last ones.

"Trouty, you've been here all day," Santana said. She took a step closer, lightly wrapped her hands around his biceps, and gently tugged him in the direction of the door. "You're going to overdo it if you keep it up."

He shoved her away from him and glared at her. "I'm not going to overdo it so can you just back off and go home? I'll be there later."

"Sam—"

"Damn it, I'm fine!" Sam threw one of the dumbbells and it crashed into a weight machine with enough force to knock it over. Santana's eyes widened and she took several steps back from the red-faced man her friend had morphed into. "Go home, Santana," he said through heavy breaths.

She stared at him for a moment before her eyes narrowed. "Fine. Have fun walking back to the apartment."

She left him to his bicep curls and headed for the entrance. The attendee at the front desk was still staring at the eighty-pound dumbbell and the weight machine that had been knocked over. Santana grabbed Sam's car keys out of one of the cubby holes at the front and walked out of the gym, slamming the door behind her.

The drive home might as well have been silent. Santana was too busy remembering the strange look in Sam's eyes to pay attention to the radio. The way they had looked after he threw the weight… It was the first time she had ever felt frightened by him. She pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex and parked the car. Once she cut the engine, she rested her forehead against the steering wheel. That hadn't been Sam in there. Her thoughts drifted to the card in her back pocket, but she shook her head and got out of the vehicle, hitting the lock button as she walked towards the building.

What happened with Sam was strange, but he was just stressed. His three year anniversary was coming up and she knew he had something special planned for Mercedes. She had found a ring in his room while spring cleaning a month ago. That had to be what he was trying to work through, not some strange, fudge-related incident that had him repeating the day, or whatever it was that woman had been asking about. Still…

Santana slipped her key into the lock on the apartment door and went inside. She dropped the keychain on the coffee table and headed for the kitchen. After grabbing a beer out of the fridge and going back to the living room, she dropped onto the sofa and sipped the cool, bitter drink as her thoughts returned to Sam and the card in her pocket.

If Sam was stressed about proposing to Mercedes, that was understandable. That was logical. What wasn't logical was how he could suddenly throw an eighty pound weight like it was an oversized baseball. He was a strong guy, but he wasn't _that _strong. She took another sip before reaching into her back pocket with her free hand and pulling out the card she had been given.

_Special Agent Pierce_ was all it said on the front. There was a small paw-print underneath the raised black letters, but it didn't look like it was supposed to be there. She turned the card over and scanned the ten digits printed on the back. Her eyes stayed on the area code for a moment before she set the beer on the coffee table and pulled her phone out to Google the 605 area code.

"South Dakota," she muttered as she ran her thumb over the numbers. "You're a long way from home, Agent Pierce."

Her thumb tapped against the screen, typing out a search for government facilities and jobs located in South Dakota. She highly doubted Pierce was a lead transportation security officer. After several failed searches, she sighed and tossed the phone to the other side of the couch. Maybe she just wasn't looking in the right places. Google searches had never been her strong suit. Or maybe she had narrowly avoided being robbed by a woman masquerading as a government agent. It wasn't like she had gotten a good look at the badge and ID card.

That was that then. Sam was just stressed about what his plans for his anniversary and the stress was affecting his mood. She still wasn't sure how he had thrown that weight so easily, but it probably had something to do with adrenaline. That was the only logical explanation. She set the card on the table and stood up, raising her arms and stretching out her back as she looked through the stack of movies she and Sam had picked out that morning. After putting in Captain America, she returned to the couch and her beer so she could enjoy the planned movie night and try to forget about her roommate's behavior.

Santana was halfway through her second movie and her third beer when Sam finally walked through the door. His shaggy blond bangs stuck to his forehead, darkened by sweat. He must have run to the apartment. Santana shook her head and returned her attention to the television, where Natalie Portman and Chris Hemsworth were sharing a scene together.

"You couldn't wait for me to start the movies?" Sam asked. The door slammed shut behind him and Santana jumped. "I thought this was supposed to be _our_ Marvel marathon."

"It was until a certain fish-lipped blondie acted like a total meathead at the gym," Santana said with a shrug.

"Damn it, Santana!"

Something solid pounded against the wall and she looked over to see Sam with his fist in the drywall. Sam's eyes had the same glazed-over appearance they had had at the gym and his breathing was heavy again. She glanced at the phone on the other side of the couch and slowly leaned over to grab it while Sam tugged his fist out of the wall. Just in case. Once he was free, he glared at the hole he had made before walking over to the couch and sitting down next to Santana. Her gaze flickered down to his hand. The skin was split and bleeding in several spots but Sam didn't seem to notice.

"That's going to get infected."

"It's fine."

"Fine," Santana said. Her nose crinkled as she got a whiff of the sweaty scent oozing from Sam's body. "Do you at least plan on showering any time soon? You reek."

"This is how men smell," Sam said.

"Yeah, single, friendless men," she replied with a roll of her eyes, but she kept the rest of her comments to herself and returned her attention to the movie. If Sam was hanging out with her, he wasn't about to keel over at the gym. She could put up with the smell of body odor and chocolate as long as Sam was close enough for her to keep an eye on. Her brow furrowed. Why the hell did Sam smell like chocolate? "Do you have a candy bar on you?"

"No," Sam said as he shifted his weight to get more comfortable on the couch. "Do you want one? I can run to the store and grab you one."

Santana shook her head. "Don't. I think you've done enough running around for the day."

"Seriously, though. The store isn't too far," he said with a smile on those guppy lips. He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he got to his feet and headed for the door. "I've been itching to get another run in anyway," he said before the door closed behind him.

Santana groaned and sank lower in the couch. What the hell was going on with her friend? Her gaze landed on the card resting on the table. Possibly-An-Agent Pierce's number was facing up. Santana sighed and leaned forward with her phone so she could see the digits better. There was a moment of hesitation before she tapped the number onto the touch screen. The phone rang three times before someone answered.

"Agent Pierce," was the response from the other end of the line. The fingers of Santana's free hand drummed against the armrest as she tried to figure out what exactly she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it. "Hello?"

"I smelled fudge," she said, regretting it seconds later. That sounded so stupid. "I mean, I smelled chocolate. They're basically the same things, right?"

There was a moment of silence before the other woman said, "Who is this?"

"What do you mean 'Who is this'?" Santana hissed into the phone. "This better not be some stupid prank to make me look like an idiot. If it is, I'll—"

"It's not a prank! I just need to know who I'm talking to," the other woman said in a hurried voice. "I talked to a lot of people today."

"Oh," she said as her cheeks started to heat up. "Sorry. It's Santana Lopez. I was at The Rhodes Show earlier this evening."

"Yeah, you were the cute girl," the voice said and Santana swore she was smiling as she said it, which made her smile despite the reason she was calling. "So you smelled fudge?"

"Yes," Santana said with a nod, but she quickly corrected herself. "I mean no. I smelled chocolate. Does that make a difference? Are you part of the CDC? Is this some strange gas leak? Do I need to go into quarantine?"

"Hey, hey. Calm down," the agent said. "I'm not part of the CDC and there are no gas leaks that I'm aware of. The smell is just something that happens around weird stuff."

"What kind of weird stuff?"

"Where are you right now, Santana?" the agent asked, ignoring Santana's question for the time being.

"My apartment," she said. She listed off the street name and some landmarks nearby when a thought popped into her head. "This isn't some elaborate ruse to murder me, is it?"

"Nobody's going to murder you, Santana. We're here to help, I promise."

"I'm sure that's what all murderers say before they kill someone," Santana said with a sigh before ending the call and tossing her phone to the other side of the couch once more. She brought her knees up to her chest and drank the last of her beer as she kept watch over the door to her apartment.

She breathed a sigh of relief when someone knocked at the door half an hour later. Sam wouldn't have knocked. She opened the door and Agent Pierce and another woman entered the apartment. Despite her relief, she was a little confused. It shouldn't have taken Sam so long to run to the store. She had hoped Agent Pierce would help take her mind off her missing roommate somehow, but the older woman was the one who spoke first.

"Agent Roz Washington," she introduced herself, flashing a badge similar to Agent Pierce's in Santana's face before quickly tucking it back into her jacket. "I am senior field agent and as such you will be directing all questions and answers to me. Is that understood?" Santana looked over the woman's shoulder at Agent Pierce, who shrugged and mouthed an apology at her. "I asked if that was understood, civilian."

"It's understood, lady," Santana said with a frown. "Now can you get out of my face and tell me what the hell is going on?"

"We were actually hoping you could fill us in on that," Agent Pierce said from behind her superior. When Agent Washington looked back at her, she mumbled an apology.

"Now, Ms. Lopez," the senior agent said once Brittany had been silenced, "I do not smell any fudge in this residence. Are you sure this is where it was coming from?"

Santana shook her head. "It was coming off my roommate. I almost missed it with all the body odor he had going on, but it was there."

"And how do you know he wasn't just packing some extra snacks for later?"

"Because, Agent Washington," Santana said through gritted teeth, "Sam doesn't eat junk-food. And he said he hadn't brought any home."

The senior agent nodded. "So your boyfriend—"

"Roommate," Santana corrected, glancing over the older woman's shoulder to make eye contact with Agent Pierce, who ducked her head but had a shy smile on her face.

"Your roommate," Agent Washington amended. "Has he been acting any stranger than usual?" Santana explained the short temper and the show of strength at the gym as she showed them framed photographs of her and Sam together and a couple with his girlfriend. The two agents exchanged a look before the senior agent returned her attention to Santana. "Where is he now?"

"He ran down to the store because he thought I wanted a candy bar. I think he just wanted an excuse to run," she said. "I thought it was just stress, but he's never pushed himself this hard before."

Agent Washington excused herself so she could join Agent Pierce, who had a strange rectangular device in her hand. Someone was talking over it and Santana wondered what the hell kind of phone it was. She shook her head and escaped to the kitchen to pour a glass of water. She had a feeling she would have to be a little more sober to deal with the rest of the night's activities. She frowned. Maybe drunker was the smarter way to go. She didn't have time to decide which was the wiser choice because a pale hand touched her shoulder, startling her. She cursed as water splashed on the linoleum floor.

"Sorry," Agent Pierce said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Santana shrugged the hand off her shoulder. "It's not your fault. This whole thing with Sam has me on edge," she admitted before she took a sip of what was left of her water. "Just… make a little more noise next time?"

The agent smiled and nodded. "I'll try." Several seconds of silence went by before the other woman said, "Agent Roz is out looking for your friend, Ms. Lopez. We'll help him."

"I think I liked it better when you called me by my first name," Santana said. She took another drink and looked at the clock on the microwave above the stove. It was almost midnight. Where would Sam be this late at night? "So why didn't you go with your partner?"

"I'm supposed to stay here in case he comes back," she explained and Santana's gaze dropped down to her hip where the gun was hidden. The other woman noticed and shook her head. "I'm not going to use that on him."

She reached to her opposite hip and pulled out another weapon. It was shaped like a gun, but it was made of glass with a metal coil on the muzzle. Inside, there was what looked like a tiny motor. The dial on its side was set to the number three. Her mouth was drawn into a thin line as she offered Santana the handle.

"I want you to hold onto this."

"I can't—"

"It won't kill him, Santana. You may not even have to use it," she assured her. Santana stared at the strange gun for a moment longer before wrapping the fingers of her free hand around the leather handle. Agent Pierce wrapped her hands around Santana's and gently squeezed. "It will protect you if things get out of hand. I promise it will only stun him."

Santana stared at the hands on hers for a moment before nodding. The other woman smiled but didn't pull away until Santana cleared her throat. Even then, it took her a moment to drop her hands and go back to the living room. Santana watched her leave and, once she was gone, took a deep breath and shook her head.

She hoped Agent Washington caught Sam. Or, if she didn't, she hoped Agent Pierce could talk him down. She rubbed the leather handle of the strange gun with her thumb. The other woman had said it wouldn't kill anyone, but what if something went wrong? She hoped she wouldn't have to find out what it did. Santana finished off her water and set the glass in the sink before walking back into the living room. She found the agent sitting on the couch watching the front door. Agent Pierce smiled when Santana took a seat next to her. The smile disappeared when Santana asked what agency she worked for.

"I'm not really allowed to tell you."

"Seriously?" Santana asked. The agent nodded and Santana scoffed. "Well, what can you tell me? Can you tell me what the hell is wrong with Sam?"

"Mushrooms," Agent Pierce replied automatically. "Really strange effects from eating bad mushrooms. Or drinking water with mushrooms. I can't remember."

Santana rolled her eyes, but before she could call the agent out on the lie, the front door opened and it was not Agent Washington who entered.

"Sam," she said as she got to her feet and hurried to her friend's side. His shirt was drenched with sweat and his face was even redder than it had been before he left. His breaths were coming in heavy gasps and when he looked at her, his eyes still had a hazy cloud over them. "Sam, what are you doing to yourself?"

"I need to get stronger, Santana," he wheezed. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. "I try and try but it's not enough. I'm not strong enough."

"What aren't you strong enough for, Sam?" Santana asked, trying to keep him calm. Her eyes flickered to Agent Pierce, who was still seated on the couch. The other woman waved her hand, gesturing for her to keep going, as she slowly got to her feet. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not strong enough for her. I'm not strong enough for you. I'm too weak to be of any use to anyone," he said through heavy breaths. He squeezed his eyes tighter and Santana was no longer sure if it was sweat or tears sliding town his face. "Why aren't I strong enough?"

Santana shushed him. "Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you, Trouty Mouth," she said and he reluctantly opened his hazy eyes. "You can stop trying, Sam. You don't have to keep doing this to yourself," she told him. "You're the strongest guy I know and even if you weren't, Mercedes and I would still love you."

He wiped at his eyes and shook his head. "I can't stop, Santana. If I stop, it will all go away."

"I know you think that, but that's why I asked someone here to help you," Santana said with a small smile.

"Help me?" He asked, and she thought she saw relief flicker in his eyes.

She nodded. "This is Agent Pierce," she said with a wave of her hand. The blond man turned around and finally saw the other woman, who had moved behind him. He backed away from the agent and glared at Santana.

"She's not here to help me. She's here to take it away."

When Agent Pierce shut the door and locked it, Santana started to think maybe Sam was right. Maybe the other woman wasn't here to help. Maybe weird mushroom water _had_ been the problem and Agent Pierce had been sent to eliminate the evidence and anyone who knew about it. The strange gun was still in Santana's hand. She could use it on the agent and get Sam to safety, hopefully find him some help. Her index finger slid to the trigger, but she paused when Agent Pierce started talking.

"Sam, I know you don't think I'm here to help, but I promise I'm not going to hurt you," she said, her hands raised. "Have you recently come into contact with something new?" she asked as she took a slow step forward. "Maybe a leather band of some sort?"

To Santana's surprise, Sam's eyes widened.

"I told you she's trying to take it away, Santana," he said. "She's going to take it away and keep it for herself and I'll be useless!"

He moved faster than Santana thought was possible, especially for someone who looked so exhausted. One second he was standing next to her, the next he was in front of Agent Pierce, throwing punches that the other woman just barely managed to avoid. When he couldn't hit her, he switched tactics and tackled her into the heavy door. It buckled under the force and the two of them crashed into the hallway, landing in a heap on the floor. Sam recovered first and straddled the agent's waist, his fist raised. Santana looked down at the weapon in her hand and remembered Agent Pierce's words from earlier. It wouldn't kill him. It was only meant to stun. As she raised the gun and pulled the trigger, she really hoped the agent hadn't been lying.

A mass of blue bolts traveled from the coils at the end of the gun and hit its mark. Sam's body went rigid for several seconds before he slumped sideways and hit the floor with a thud. Santana's eyes were wide as she stared at the weapon in her hand, her eyes studying the glass and coils once more. She didn't look away until she heard a groan in the hallway. Luckily, it was Agent Pierce trying to stand and not Sam. Santana hurried to her side and helped the agent up, little pricks of static shock poking at her skin.

"Did you see that?" Santana asked once Agent Pierce was on her feet. "It shot electricity. This gun shoots electricity!"

"I know," Agent Pierce said with a hiss as she gently took the gun out of Santana's hand and slid it into its holster. The strands of hair that were no longer contained in the agent's ponytail were sticking up and Santana realized the agent must have felt some of the effects of the electricity. She started to apologize for not waiting, but the other woman cut her off and smiled as she said, "I'd rather go through a little shock than get my teeth knocked out, thanks," before turning to Sam's unconscious body.

Agent Pierce sighed and pulled a pair of purple latex gloves and a small silver bag out of her jacket. After she slipped the gloves on, she crouched down and Santana watched as she searched through the man's shorts, pulling out lanyards, a wallet, lip balm, and finally a long, leather cord. She handed the silver baggy to Santana and asked her to carefully hold it open. When she dropped the cord inside, sparks flew and Santana had the sense to close her eyes. Once the miniature fireworks show was over, she heard Sam groan.

"What the hell was that?"

"The sandal of Ajax," Agent Pierce said. "Well, piece of it. Agent Washington and I have been tracking it for a couple months." The agent turned to face Santana and gave her a lopsided smile. "Your friend will be alright now. He'll just be really sore for a while."

"Looks like he won't be the only one," Santana pointed out. "Are you sure you're okay?"

The other woman nodded. "I'll be fine. It's not the first door I've gone through," she said before resting a hand on Santana's shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Santana. And if you ever smell fudge when there isn't any—"

"You'll be the first person I call," Santana said and the agent's smile turned into a grin. They were both quiet for several seconds before Santana spoke up again. "I don't really know what the hell happened today, but I'm glad you were around to help."

"All I did was drop the cord into a bag. You're the one who stopped him," Agent Pierce said. "And don't worry if you don't understand right now. I have a feeling you'll get an explanation soon enough."

Before Santana could ask what she meant, the strange clanging ring from the shop echoed in the hallway and the agent had to turn away from her to take the call. She couldn't hear what was being said, but when the call was done, the other woman turned back to her with a twinkle in her eye.

"Goodbye for now, Santana," Agent Pierce said before placing a quick kiss on Santana's cheek and then hurrying down the hallway.

Santana watched her go, only slightly aware of the smile on her face, until she heard Sam groan again. She looked down at his prone form and sighed. How nice of Agent Pierce to leave before they had Sam in his bed rather than on the floor. Maybe she would just sit next to him until he regained consciousness. It seemed like a better option than dragging him across the floor of the apartment.

* * *

After the incident, Sam apologized at least five times a day for two weeks. It would have gone on longer, but Santana threatened to move out if he kept whining about how sorry he was. After that, neither of them brought up the strange night or the woman he had tackled through the door. Life went on. Sam proposed to Mercedes on their anniversary and the night after she said yes, all three of them went out to celebrate at a karaoke bar. Santana could have sworn she caught a glimpse of a blonde ponytail that night, but the bar was too crowded for her to be sure.

Work was still work: Monotonous and Finn-filled. She still couldn't remember her boss's name, so when she was called into her office, she felt dread tie her stomach into a knot. The knot only tightened when it appeared that her boss was sober for once. Or at least partially sober. More sober than she had been since Santana started working there. There was another woman in the office as well. Santana had never met her before, but the stern look on her face and the rigid way she carried herself made Santana think she was someone important.

"Is this going to take long? Finnocence can't be left on his own too long," she said as she took a seat in front of her boss's desk.

"Santana, you and I both know you've been with The Rhodes Show for a long time now," her boss started off. Her gaze flickered to the woman standing in the corner for a second before returning to Santana. "And I appreciate all of the hard work you've put in over the years, but I think your skills are being wasted here, sweetie pie."

"Wait… Am I being fired?" Santana asked. This was possibly the nicest termination she had ever received but she'd still like to know what she did wrong to cause it.

"No, no. You're not being fired," her boss assured her. "You're being… well…"

"I want you to work for me," the stern woman finally spoke. She took a step forward and Santana's boss took that as her cue to leave, muttering something about a bottle of Nyquil and a box of wine as she left the room. The stranger waited until the door shut before she continued speaking. "I believe you experienced an issue with your roommate several weeks ago and two of my agents helped you resolve it."

Santana nodded, although she wasn't sure where the woman was going with the conversation.

"While I do not approve of her methods, Agent Pierce has informed me that you handled yourself well in a stressful situation and did not hesitate to act when the time came," she said. "I have reason to believe that your instincts would be of great use to me and the agency I work for."

"I don't even know your name or what it is you people do and you want me to come work for you? I don't think so," Santana said as she got out of her chair.

"My name is Mrs. Frederic and what we do, Ms. Lopez, is hunt down artifacts," the stranger said in a low voice that made Santana think twice about walking out of the room. She slowly lowered herself back into the chair.

"Artifacts?"

"Like the one your friend Samuel had," Mrs. Frederic said. "Granted, that was only part of an artifact. If he had been in contact with the whole sandal, the effects would have occurred sooner and your friend may not be here today."

"Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?"

"Not at all," she said. "It's a lesson. Not all of the objects in this world are as harmless as you and your friends like to believe. Some are capable of great things, but at a terrible cost," she explained. "The leather from Ajax's sandal grants the bearer immense strength, but also shortens his temper and instills in him the idea that he will never be strong enough, which causes the bearer to work himself to death."

"Sam…" Santana remembered the way Sam had looked that night, red-faced and exhausted, struggling to breathe because he was so worn out. She never wanted to see him like that again.

"The agents who work under me, they travel the world to make sure people like your friend Sam are not victims of objects like Ajax's sandal."

"That doesn't make sense. Ajax wasn't real," Santana said as her brow furrowed. "He was just some made up warrior guy."

"There is always a kernel of truth in stories, Ms. Lopez, and there are some stories that are more believable than the truth," Mrs. Frederic said. "The agency I work for is expert in dealing with the things that some people would pass off as myth or legend."

"And what agency is that?"

Mrs. Frederic placed her hands on the desk and leaned forward as she said, "Warehouse Thirteen."

* * *

**Author's Note 2**: A big thank you to Jax for helping me come up with an artifact for this. I had already been thinking something Greek, but he helped me figure out what it was I needed. Also, if you've never seen Warehouse 13, I highly recommend it. Fun concept, fun stories, and fun characters. Plus, some really cheesy special effects. Who doesn't love those?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** The second chapter of Endless Wonder. I'm not sure how happy I am with how this one turned out because there is no artifact hunting, but it does get Santana interacting with more Warehouse characters. This chapter and the next will feature a lot of Santana being introduced to the Warehouse and all of its quirks, although the next chapter should be a little more exciting. ... Now it's just a matter of me getting to write it. Stupid job. Anyway, I'd like to give a big thank you to **mykindofparty **for reading over sections for me and for just being awesome in general. And I'd like to thank **lemasquerade** for giving me an awesome incentive to get around to posting this faster.

* * *

**Episode 2: Welcome to Endless Wonder**

Maybe leaving Lima should have been harder for Santana. The decision, at least, should have been more difficult. However, there was a thought—a desire if she was honest with herself—in the back of her mind that made the decision easier. There was nothing in Lima for her. Her job as a cashier and appraiser at the antiques shop left much to be desired, although she would miss teasing Finnocence on a daily basis. She hadn't spoken to her family in years. And her two best friends were getting married and moving on with their lives. If she left, they would have an apartment to themselves. As much as she loved the two of them, she did not need to hear how much they loved each other every night. She shuddered at the thought as she pulled three wine glasses out of the cupboard.

Sam hadn't been happy with her decision. After the incident, he thought it was his fault. She had told him to check his ego. The world didn't revolve around him and neither did her choices. Santana needed out of Lima. She needed to do something that didn't involve dusting off antiques and bartering with whiny customers all day. She wanted to have a purpose. The way Mrs. Frederic had explained her agency, Santana thought her purpose might be there. She frowned and filled the glasses with red wine. It may have been a stretch to say that protecting people from dangerous objects was her calling, but it had to be better than wasting her days at The Rhodes Show.

Wine sloshed over the brims of the cups as she carried them out of the kitchen and into the living room. Sam and Mercedes occupied the couch, his arm around her shoulders and a goofy grin on his face as she whispered something in his ear. Santana smiled and carefully set two glasses on the coffee table. It was quite possible that protecting strangers was not Santana's calling, but protecting the people she cared about was something she could do, even if they didn't know that was what she was doing.

"Shouldn't I be the one serving you? You're the shmancy pants with the promotion," Sam asked as he took a glass from the table and handed it to Mercedes. He took the remaining one for himself while Santana situated herself in the recliner next to the couch.

"You can go get the bottle once we've finished these off," Mercedes said, patting Sam's hand. He tried to give her a kiss on the cheek, but she pulled away so she could stand up and suggest a toast. Santana groaned. "Cut it out, Satan. This is a big day for you."

"Alright, alright. But nothing embarrassing or I'm pouring wine down Trouty's pants," she said before getting to her feet once more and joining Mercedes and Sam in front of the couch.

"A toast to my girl Santana, whose talent has finally been recognized," Mercedes said, bumping her hip against Santana's. "I'm not sure what kind of trouble there is in South Dakota, but I know you'll bring your own brand with you and they won't know what hit them."

Santana chuckled. "I'll be sure to give 'em hell just for you."

"That's my girl," Mercedes said before clinking her glass against Santana's. Sam's cup joined theirs and all three of them drained the wine from the glasses. Mercedes laughed when some dribbled down Santana's chin. "Don't you dare spill that on the carpet. I'm not cleaning up after your ass now that you're getting out of here."

"Calm down, mom. I'll clean up my own messes," Santana said before turning to Sam. "Go get us the bottle, Guppy Lips. We're just getting started."

Sam nodded and, after a kiss to Mercedes's cheek, disappeared from the living room, leaving the two women alone. Santana rolled the stem of the glass in her hand, spinning the empty cup while she waited. She could feel Mercedes's gaze on her, studying her, most likely wondering what was going on in her head. She gave her friend a reassuring smile just as Sam returned with the open bottle of wine and several bottles of beer.

"Refreshments for my two favorite ladies," he said, and poured more into Mercedes's glass and then Santana's. After filling his own, he raised it up. "I have some more words for the lovely Ms. Lopez here."

"Guys, stop. I'm allergic to sweetness. If I have to go through more tonight, I'm going to upchuck," Santana whined, but there was a smile on her face when Sam put his arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer. "That threat to pour wine down your pants is still on the table."

"Pour away, but first just let me say how proud I am of you. I know it's not the big break you were hoping for, but you're finally getting out of here," he said. He ducked his head for a moment and his shaggy locks obscured his face as he wiped his eyes with the back of his forearm. When he looked up again, his eyes were wet but his smile was back. "We're going to miss you, Santana, so be sure to Skype us from whatever dusty shop they have you working in once in a while."

"I didn't know you could be so sappy, Trouty."

"One of the many reasons I said yes," Mercedes said before giving him a quick peck on the lips. Sam excused himself to go to the bathroom and get something out of his eye, and Santana and Mercedes watched him go. Once he was out of sight, Mercedes turned to Santana and placed a hand on her shoulder. "We are gonna miss you, but we'll visit so much you'll be sick of us."

"Please. You guys are going to be doing it so much once I'm gone that you'll forget about me until the wedding," Santana teased, but she placed her free hand on Mercedes's hand and gently squeezed. Mercedes laughed and rolled her eyes. Sam came back from the bathroom and neither woman commented on how red his eyes were as they all started drinking again.

It was going to be a good night.

It was also a night she highly regretted, she realized, when she woke up the next morning in the bathtub sprawled over Mercedes. The pounding in her head made Santana groan and Mercedes weakly slapped her arm and muttered something that sounded like 'stop.' Santana slowly sat up in the tub, ignoring the spinning sensation the movement caused, and looked over the edge. Sam laid face-down on the floor with his hand resting on the rim of the tub and a box of half-eaten pizza on his back. She didn't remember ordering pizza, but after she stood and carefully stepped out of the tub, she grabbed a slice for breakfast on her way out of the bathroom.

The sun had not yet risen, which was nice for her hangover but an awful reminder of how early it was. Once she was dressed and had her suitcases out in the living room, she returned to the bathroom and nudged Sam awake with her foot while gently shaking Mercedes. The couple groaned in unison, but they forced themselves to their feet and left the bathroom to get dressed.

The ride to the airport was filled with idle small talk while the radio played a talk show in the background. Waiting at the airport was even quieter, but all three of them sat huddled together on a bench near Santana's gate. Her fingers fiddled with the straps of her carry-on bag while Mercedes flipped through an outdated magazine.

Half an hour before the flight was scheduled to depart, Sam offered to find them some food and asked Santana to come with him. She looked at Mercedes, who shrugged and continued to look through the tabloid. Santana sighed, but she followed the blond man through the airport in search of vending machines. They managed to find a machine with Pop-Tarts and called the search a success. On their way back with the spoils of their search, Sam spoke up.

"This isn't some promotion from the antiques shop, is it?"

Santana glanced at him before shaking her head. "What else would it be? You haven't caught me moonlighting on the side, have you, Trouty?"

"Come on, Santana. I may not be the smartest dude in Ohio, but even I know this promotion is a little too coincidental," he said. "That… What happened last month, does this job have something to do with that?"

Santana chewed her lower lip before saying, "I can't really tell you," which was pretty much telling him, but she couldn't lie. It wasn't like she had told him about the warehouse Mrs. Frederic had mentioned. Sam frowned for a moment before nodding.

"Whatever it is you're doing, be careful," he said. "And I'm sorry for what happened that night."

"For the last time, that was not your fault so you need to forget about it," she told him. "Now shut up about the job. I'd rather spend my last morning here not talking about work."

The frown on Sam's face turned into a smile and he nodded again just as Mercedes and the bench came into view. The three friends spent their last few minutes together sharing packages of Pop-Tarts until an announcement blared over the speakers, announcing Santana's flight. They hugged one last time and Mercedes whispered in Santana's ear to check her carry-on bag for a surprise. Santana frowned. Surprises weren't really her thing. As she walked through the jetway, her body started to tremble and she hoped the surprise was something to knock her out during the flight.

Once she was thankfully seated in the aisle, Santana opened her carry-on and laughed to herself. Sam and Mercedes had snuck in some last minute parting gifts: An assortment of new comic books and an iPod with her favorite artists, including Miss Jones herself. It may not have been something to knock her out until South Dakota, but it was more than enough to distract her from the occasional bouts of turbulence the plane went through. By the time she touched down in South Dakota, Santana had read through each of the comics twice. When the plane started unloading, she carefully placed them back in her carry-on and joined the mass of people rushing to get out.

Santana wasn't quite sure what she expected when she walked off the plane, but the redheaded woman holding up a sign with her name scribbled on the front was not it. She clutched the straps of her bag tighter and walked towards the stranger waiting for her. Each step closer made her stomach flip. She was taking her first steps toward something new and she could already feel the regret and fear coiling in her stomach. She refused to let it get to her. Santana Lopez didn't back down once her mind was set on something. Yet as she approached the young woman with short auburn locks, she wished she _was_ the kind of person who wasn't afraid to turn back and run away.

Then Agent Pierce emerged from the mass of people holding two Styrofoam cups, and Santana's nerves dissipated.

The familiar sight of the blonde agent in the dark suit and loose ponytail was enough to ease the anxiety piling up in her gut. When she reached the two women, the familiar agent smiled at her.

"It's nice to see you again, Santana."

"I'm certainly not complaining, Agent Pierce," Santana replied before her gaze shifted to the unfamiliar woman. She was nearly as tall as the other agent, but instead of a suit, she wore a dark leather vest over a purple shirt and jeans. At least she didn't make Santana feel under-dressed. "Who's she supposed to be?"

The stranger's jaw dropped and she made an indignant noise. "I'm only the coolest special agent you'll ever meet, Short-stack, so watch the tone."

"This is Claudia," Agent Pierce said as she handed the stranger one of the Styrofoam cups.

"Dude, we talked about this. It's Agent Donovan around newbies," the redhead said as she took the offered cup. Brittany shrugged and handed Santana the remaining cup. It was warm to the touch and the smell of coffee drifted up from the hole in the lid. "Whatever. Intimidation factor officially ruined," she said before tucking the sign under her armpit so she could stick out her hand. "I guess you can call me Claudia, Newbie."

Santana stared at the offered hand for a moment before shaking her head. "Hands are full. Sorry," she said. "And that 'Newbie' thing? It's going to stop right now."

"Yikes. Somebody's a little prickly," Claudia said as she rocked backwards on her heels. "Something tells me you'll get along with Artie just fine, new girl."

It wasn't Newbie so Santana didn't complain. Instead, she gritted her teeth and pushed past Agent Pierce and Claudia and headed for the luggage carousel, where she waited through several loops of the conveyor belt until her two suitcases finally passed by her. She slid the straps of her carry-on up to her shoulder and reached for the luggage with the now free hand, but somebody else grabbed them before she could. Beside her stood Agent Pierce, suitcases in hand and a small smile on her face.

"Sorry about Claudia. She gets weird around new people," Agent Pierce said as they started walking through the terminal. Santana hadn't noticed in Lima—she had been a little too busy worrying about Sam—but the agent walked with such authority that the crowd seemed to part around the tall woman.

"I may have gotten back on the plane if she was the only one here for me."

"I asked Artie if I could come along to pick you up. Faces I like usually make me less anxious so I thought being here to greet you might be helpful. And Claudia can be a little much for some people."

"Agent Pierce, are you insinuating I like your face? That's a pretty bold claim," Santana said with a smirk as they walked through the automatic doors into the late July air.

The agent shrugged. "I've been told I have a very likeable face," she said before pulling out her phone. Santana assumed she was talking to the missing agent. Soon after she hung up, a black SUV pulled up to the sidewalk. Claudia sat in the driver's seat, her head bobbing along to the song pumping through the speakers.

Agent Pierce knocked on the back window of the large vehicle and Claudia popped the door to the trunk, where the blonde agent carefully placed Santana's luggage. She offered to add the bag to the suitcases, but Santana shook her head and let herself into the backseat while the agent shut the trunk. She pulled the iPod out of her bag and quickly immersed herself in the gift from her friends, trying to distract herself from the butterflies that began fluttering around in her stomach once the SUV lurched forward. Outside the window, the clustered buildings and busy streets of Rapid City transformed into rolling green hills followed by plains of brown and yellow grass.

The interstate stretched into the horizon, much farther than she had ever seen it stretch back in Ohio. Just when she thought they would be driving down the road until they ran out of concrete, the SUV veered off the cement and turned onto a dirt road that Santana's tired eyes had missed. Agent Pierce turned around and smiled. She didn't speak until Santana pulled the headphones off her head.

"Have your nerves worn off yet?"

"I think they got bored and left after that last farm we passed," Santana said, eliciting a laugh from both agents.

Claudia's eyes flashed up to the rearview mirror and met Santana's as she said, "Trust me. You won't be bored much longer. ETA in twenty."

Santana sighed and pulled her headphones back over her ears. Before she could hit play, however, Agent Pierce had unbuckled herself and climbed over the center console into the backseat despite Claudia's protests. Once the other woman maneuvered her long frame into the back, Santana pulled her headphones off again and looked over at her. She waited for an explanation but all she got was that damn smile.

"Can I help you?"

"Can I sit here?" she asked as she patted the middle seat.

Santana thought it over for a moment before nodding and turning her head back towards the window. It wouldn't hurt to let Agent Pierce sit a little closer. In fact, she actually liked the agent's company a bit. Their brief time together before had had an edge to it because of the situation with Sam, but it hadn't been uncomfortable at all. The rest of the ride to wherever the hell it was they were going wasn't exactly uncomfortable either. Neither of them spoke, but Santana would occasionally glance at the agent and catch her watching her and pale cheeks would turn pink, but Agent Pierce wouldn't look away. Instead, she would smile and Santana would end up looking out the window again, a smile of her own on her face. It was a strange game they played until the SUV slowed to a halt.

When the hum of the engine cut off, Santana switched her gaze from the back window to the front. A large, rusty warehouse spanned across the dirt. The building was massive in height as well as width, stretching up towards the sky in all its rusted glory. Santana slowly got out of the vehicle, her eyes fixated on the large structure. She didn't notice Claudia and Agent Pierce had come to her side until Claudia spoke.

"Just wait until you get inside. Then your jaw can really drop," she said. Claudia's eyes met Agent Pierce's, but when Santana looked at the blonde woman next to her, she was staring down at the strange tin box Santana had gotten a glimpse of the first time they met. She leaned over to get a better look. A circular screen dominated the face of the box and on the screen was the black and white image of an older man Santana had never seen before. Small glasses framed his eyes and his chin and upper lip were covered in a small beard.

"You must be Miss Lopez." The man's voice was slightly distorted. Santana wasn't sure if it was because of the strange device or not, but his voice sounded a little tinny to her ears.

"And you must be the creepy old man I've heard absolutely nothing about," she said, her eyes flickering up to Agent Pierce. Claudia laughed next to her and the man on screen gritted his teeth.

"Artie Nielsen. Your new boss," he said in a low growl. "And I would appreciate it if certain people here would start acting like I was their boss," he added, looking pointedly at Claudia. She cleared her throat and tucked her hands into her pocket, avoiding his gaze.

"I do, Artie," Agent Pierce said with a bright smile. "I even made you cookies that said 'World's Greatest Boss' on them."

"Yes Brittany, and they were certainly… something," the man said before shaking his head. He pulled his glasses off and wiped them with a cloth. Once he had the glasses perched on his nose once more, he told Agent Pierce and Claudia to bring Santana inside. "And don't touch anything," he warned before the screen went black.

"Guess that's our cue to give you the grand tour," Claudia said.

Agent Pierce gave Santana a reassuring smile and gently nudged her towards the massive structure, which only grew larger with each step she took. By the time they reached the metal double-doors that reached the roof, she had to lean back to see the tops of them. However, it wasn't the double-doors that Claudia opened. Instead, she led Santana and Agent Pierce to a smaller door and ushered the two of them inside.

Once inside, Santana blinked her eyes several times to adjust to the light of the bright white hallway they had entered. Santana shuffled behind Claudia and Agent Pierce, trying to stop her gaze from lingering on the blonde agent's backside by distracting herself with her sparse surroundings. Thin white pillars wrapped in yellow caution tape were placed all along the corridor, a metallic block encased by glass in the middle of each one. It seemed that when Artie said not to touch anything, he really meant it.

"Please keep hands and all other pertinent body parts to yourself," Claudia said as they passed through the door at the end of the corridor.

They entered what Santana would best describe as a clusterfuck of an office. She wasn't even sure she could call it that. Helmets from types of armor Santana didn't recognize lined a shelf against one wall, cabinets were pushed against the other. A board covered in sticky notes and photographs, each one with half-finished sentences scrawled across them, took up the middle of the room. The old man from the video screen stood next to the board, tapping a permanent marker against his chin. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to realize the cap was off.

"Trying to color your hair again, Artie?" Claudia asked as she took a seat at the computer desk next to the board. The man hummed, acknowledging that he had heard her even if he wasn't exactly listening. Santana chuckled at the black streak bleeding into his grey and brown beard. The sound caught his attention and he finally looked away from the board to get a good look at the newcomer.

"Santana Lopez. It's nice to meet you in person," he said. He tucked the marker into the front pocket of his brown jacket, still unaware of the missing cap. He offered his hand and she debated for a moment whether or not she should take it. He was her new boss though, so it was probably wise to start on the right foot. His hand was rough and calloused and she was more than a little relieved when he released hers. "Now then, if you'll follow me." He headed for yet another door at the other side of the messy office. When Santana didn't follow, he waved his hand. "I'm not getting any younger, you know."

Santana looked at Agent Pierce, who smiled and started walking towards Artie first. She followed in the other woman's footsteps and was glad for the agent's presence when they walked into a room larger than any Santana had ever seen. Aisles and aisles of shelved object stretched out beneath the balcony they stood upon. From what Santana could see, there were obvious weapons such as swords and spears, and other mundane objects: carpets, lamps, goggles. And that was only on the one shelf she could see from the balcony. She wondered which aisle she would find the Ajax's sandal in. Wherever it was, she planned to stay as far as she could from it. She didn't need any reminders of how close she had come to losing Sam.

"The hell is this place?"

"Endless wonder," Agent Pierce whispered in her ear. "Also known as Warehouse Thirteen, home to America's coolest junkyard."

Artie pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Attic, Brittany. America's attic," he said before he turned back to Santana. "You'll be getting acquainted with the ins and outs of the warehouse before you do any field work," he explained. "Claudia will show you around in a moment but first—"

"Hold up. I thought Agent Pierce would be doing that."

"She's going to be busy when Roz gets here in about," Artie checked his watch, "seven minutes. You've got paperwork to file on that ping in Jersey."

Santana's brow furrowed. "Ping?"

"Totally technical term for hijinks of the artifacty sort," Claudia chimed in as she stepped onto the balcony. She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jeans and leaned against the railing. "Why don't I give you the grand tour now while Artie here gets Brittany started on the boring junk?"

"But her paperwork!"

"Will still be here when we get back," she said, rolling her eyes as she pushed off from the railing. She stepped up next to Santana and briefly rested her arm on Santana's shoulder before Santana pulled away. Claudia didn't let it faze her. "You two crazy kids go take care of business and my new best friend and I will go do some exploring."

Artie pinched the bridge of his nose yet again before waving his hand at the young woman. He ushered Agent Pierce through the doorway, leaving Santana alone with Claudia.

"Come on, Newbie. I've got some 'splainin' to do."

"Call me Newbie one more time and I'll push you over the railing," Santana threatened as she followed Claudia down the steps of the balcony.

Their footsteps echoed off the metal stairs and bounced around the warehouse as they descended to the ground floor. The aisles of shelves towered over them. They had appeared tall from the balcony, but now that she was on the floor staring up at them, their height was almost overwhelming. Rows and rows of shelves lined with objects waiting to destroy the life of some unsuspecting civilian. Civilian? Santana shook her head. She was already starting to think like these people and she had only been in the warehouse for ten minutes.

"So, I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot."

"And what would give you that impression, I wonder," Santana said. She smirked when Claudia looked back at her.

"A+ sarcasm and a half-decent sense of style. I approve."

"Oh good. I was worried for a second there."

Claudia rolled her eyes. "Okay, I know I said I approved but tone it down for a second. I'm trying to apologize for being an ass earlier," she said just before she came to a stop and turned to face Santana. "Let's start over. I'm Claudia." She offered her hand, and Santana stared at it for a moment before pushing past her.

"And I'm not interested. Anyway, aren't you supposed to be showing me around this tin can?"

"Okay," Claudia drawled, lowering her hand back to her side. "I mean, hey, I was just trying to—"

"Actually, can I get the silent tour?"

Claudia huffed and Santana plastered a fake smile on her face which remained there throughout the quiet trip through the warehouse. It was too large to explore on foot in one day, so the other agent only showed her the more important parts and, after a reminder from Santana to keep the talking brief, she gave descriptions of each area.

The Dark Vault, where they kept powerful artifacts that had chaotic effects. Claudia didn't actually allow her to go inside due to the dangerous nature of the artifacts, but she did promise a tour once she got permission from Artie. The hair on Santana's neck stood on end when Claudia showed her the Bronze Section. At first, she thought they were surrounded by bronze statues of people she had never heard about. She was half right. They were people she had never heard of _encased_ in bronze. Claudia may have mentioned how long they were supposed to be stuck in there, but Santana had been too busy trying to escape the gazes of the people trapped in the room to hear what she said. After Claudia caught up to her, she showed Santana the door to the Escher Vault and warned her about the dangers of entering without special permission.

"Some dude went in there by himself once and still hasn't come out," she said with a shudder before ushering Santana in the direction of the warehouse entrance.

"But what's in it?" Santana asked, looking over her shoulder at the heavy metal door.

"Nothing for you, that's for sure," Claudia replied. "Just make sure to stay out of there," she added before dropping the conversation completely. She rambled about one thing or another on the way back to the entrance, but Santana was still preoccupied with her thoughts about the Escher Vault. When they reached the stairs to the balcony, she spoke up.

"You don't know, do you?"

"Know what now?"

"What's in there. In the vault," Santana clarified. "That's why you won't tell me. You're just as clueless as I am but you don't want me to know."

"Hey, I know what's in there. It's just uh… it's a need-to-know kind of thing and you don't really need to know."

"Apparently, neither do you," she said before pushing past the agent again and heading up the staircase. Claudia called after her so she quickened her pace until she was up the steps and through the door into the office, where she ran face-first into someone's chest.

A very female someone judging by how their chest felt. She stepped back and the harsh words on the tip of her tongue faded away when she saw a familiar face smiling down at her.

"B-Brittany," she said. "I mean Agent Pierce."

"Brittany is fine," the agent assured her. "I was starting to think I hadn't given you my first name, but I guess I did."

Santana found herself mirroring the smile on the agent's face. "I guess you did," she said. "I just thought Agent Pierce sounded kind of badass."

"You mean Brittany isn't a badass name?" Brittany asked, pouting.

"I hate to break it to you, but…"

"I guess that's why the FBI never let me do interrogations," she said and shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, the B&B is serving dinner soon. Would you maybe want to eat with me?"

Santana didn't know what the B&B was, but she did know her stomach would appreciate anything that wasn't candy or airline food. "Who else would I eat with?" she asked. Brittany answered by looking over Santana's shoulder. Santana turned around and saw Claudia leaning against the railing again, waving at her. She shook her head and looked back at Brittany. "Yeah, no. I think I'll stick with you."

"I like the sound of that," Brittany said. A buzzing sound made her break eye contact with Santana as she pulled the rectangular phone-like device out of her pocket and flipped it open. Artie's voice echoed off the walls of the warehouse and Brittany cringed.

"How did you sneak crayons past me? I explicitly said no crayons!" He held up a form with several words written in bright, blocky letters. "This… This is not professional."

"No, but it's pretty," she said with a grin.

Artie took a deep breath and then another before shaking his head. "Just get back to the B&B so you can fill them out correctly," he said before the screen cut to black. Brittany smiled as she slid the device back into her pocket.

"Seems like patience is finally becoming a virtue Artie believes in," Claudia said as she approached Brittany and Santana. "I take it you already have the paperwork filled out?"

Brittany nodded. "In my room."

"You're gonna push the wrong button one day and that man is going to implode, just you wait," Claudia said. "But in the meantime, playing tour-guide has left me kinda hungry so I'm gonna go grab a bite to eat. I'll see you two soon enough, I'm sure."

Santana wasn't sure, but she thought she saw Claudia wink before she left.

"Please tell me I don't have to work with her," she said once the redhead was out of sight.

"I won't," Brittany said with a shrug before she started walking in the same direction Claudia had moments before. Santana swore under her breath and hurried after the agent.

"So what's this B&B place anyway?"

* * *

The B&B, as it turned out, was actually called Leena's Bed and Breakfast by the locals. It was owned and run by a young woman who, unsurprisingly, was named Leena. What was surprising, however, was the way Leena studied Santana while she ate alongside Brittany. When Santana asked what her problem was, she gave her a soft smile and said, "It's just nice to see balance every now and then," and returned to her own meal.

The smile left her unsettled. Then again, the whole warehouse was unsettling. It had seemed so unreal even as she was walking down the aisles alongside Claudia, but here she was eating with people who worked there. People who hunted down seemingly random objects out of the history books—and a couple mythology books—and then sat down to dinner together like it was no big deal. It was a place where people were trapped in a bronze tomb and never heard of again. Unsettling was a nice way to describe what she had learned about the place so far.

Santana looked down at her plate and sighed at the sight of the barely touched food. What she had eaten had tasted great, but her appetite had disappeared once the reality of the warehouse sank in. What had she gotten herself into? A light pressure against her shoulder snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked over to find Brittany's hand on her shoulder and the woman herself watching her, concern reflecting in her eyes. Brittany herself was unsettling as well, but for reasons that had less to do with the warehouse and more to do with the way she made Santana's gut twist into knots.

"I think I need to get some sleep," she whispered and Brittany nodded in understanding. They pushed their chairs away from the table and stood with their plates in hand.

When Claudia saw them heading for the kitchen, her conversation with Artie and Leena came to a halt. "Hey, where are you going? You haven't even met the rest of the gang yet!"

"I'm sure I'll survive somehow," Santana said. She gave them a half-hearted wave with her free hand and followed Brittany to the kitchen, where they cleaned off their plates in a comfortable silence, and then up the stairs to a hall lined with doors. She studied each one for several seconds before she turned to Brittany and asked, "So which one is yours?"

"I don't know. They all look the same from the outside," Brittany said. Santana wasn't sure if she was being serious or not. The agent was a hard read, especially after she had seen how she played Artie with the paperwork earlier. "I think it's the second one on the right though, if you ever want to have a sleep over."

And now Santana wasn't sure if the agent was hitting on her or inviting her over for an actual sleep over. Either way, she felt like she needed a change in subject.

"So do I just pick any free room or have I been assigned to one or what?"

"Any which one you like, it's yours. They're all pretty bland until your personal stuff gets delivered anyway. And it's not like you can't change rooms if you don't like the one you pick at first," Brittany said. "You might want to pick one soon if you're actually super tired. You have a long couple of days starting tomorrow."

"Lots of paperwork to fill out?"

"If that's what they're calling the warehouse training now, then sure. Lots of paperwork. Piles of it," Brittany said with a grin. Santana groaned and Brittany chuckled before leaning in towards Santana's face.

At first, she thought the agent was going to kiss her on the cheek like she had done the first night they met, but then Brittany whispered a quick goodnight into her ear and pulled back. Heat flooded her face and she rushed out an even quicker goodnight than Brittany's before escaping into the room behind her. Judging by the lack of décor, the room she had fled to was vacant. It would have to do for the night. If what Brittany said was true, Santana had a long week ahead of her. She leaned her back against the door and rested the back of her head against the wood. What was she getting herself into? She was sure it wouldn't be the last time she asked herself that question while she was working there.

* * *

**Author's Note (2):** If you watch Warehouse 13, this story is going to take place in an alternate timeline that kind of assumes that the stuff in season 4 has not happened. Just a heads up.


End file.
